


Bite to Eat

by Astra_Nova_Kat



Series: Final Fantasy kicked my ass in the idea department [1]
Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII
Genre: F/F, F/M, Gen, I was pushed into writing this, Just vampire's being gay, M/M, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Violent
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-20
Updated: 2020-05-20
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:34:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23907778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Astra_Nova_Kat/pseuds/Astra_Nova_Kat
Summary: He was wearing a bandana, as bright and bloody as his cloak, but it didn't seem out of place, fitting against the mans face like he had been born with it, but it brightened his eyes-And they were enthralling.As scarlet as rubies glowing ember hot, surrounded by pearly iridescent skin, and framed with thick hematite lashes that curled gently. They enticed Cloud’s mind into numbness, their unearthly aura overpowering any coherent thought trying to form in his mind - he found himself unable to understand them, unable to look away, the otherness of its luster like an optical illusion that Cloud couldn’t pin.They peered and prodded at Cloud, despite not moving from his face, as if they could see - could understand something that Cloud could not.
Relationships: Cloud Strife/Vincent Valentine, Sephiroth/Cloud Strife, Sephiroth/Cloud Strife/Vincent Valentine
Series: Final Fantasy kicked my ass in the idea department [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1723303
Comments: 4
Kudos: 36





	Bite to Eat

**Author's Note:**

> So I was enabled into writing this by a friend, and this idea was sparked because of a photo of Vincent Valentine dressed as Alucard, and I'm not sorry. It's overly descriptive, overly violent, and I can't write a slow relationship to save my life.
> 
> Don't ask what my update schedule is because it's just going to be whenever I manage to sit down long enough to be productive.

The howling of something not quite right brought his attention back into focus, colorful dots lining his vision as he tried to blink them away and pull fragmented shards into a full picture, hoping for clarity he knew he would not receive.

Flashes of red seeping into turquoise blue, like clouds of dye coloring water, peek and prod into his eyelids, carved in with a horrifying sense of unease and desperate hopefulness that curls around his lungs until they burn with empty pressure that begs for air.

There’s something humming under his skin, searching for something or someone he doesn’t know but can map the intricacies of their mind like his own, familiar to him like a second skin growing underneath the flesh tied to his bones - a steady pressure found wanting when weighed, and flickering against his consciousness like an unnamed lightning bug made of blinding bundles of nerves and alert brightness.

Voice strangled, desperate and scared, something calls out from the fog seeping from the back of his mind, “ _Cloud_.”

It’s a name - _his_ name, he’s sure - stark and sudden in his mind, familiar like the scream howling into the wind - bitter and broken and _aching_ , something he knows and yet doesn’t. Unfamiliar but constant like wearing smooth and clear skin instead of scarred, like reaching feebly for something he’s lost with an arm that’s whole and complete instead of shattered.

He had been broken beyond repair; cut into pieces by something he can’t recall, and the terror that lingers with phantom pain plagues his nerves with buzzing paranoia - Something happened, something unnatural and _cruel_ \- 

_Something is nearby_ , prowling along the edge of his mind, curling pressure along his bones until they snap back into place with cracks and he feels bile crawl along his throat as his lungs compress into stillness - 

Skin pierced and opened, _an autopsy carried out on a screaming cadaver_ , but by who and at where is lost to a blackness ebbing slowly at memories until all that is left is the ringing sound of sharpened bangs in his ears and the taste of something sulfuric and bitterly tangy in his mouth.

He breathes, suddenly realizing he should, gasping in air as if the last time before he dives under into glowing liquid that dissolves away at his skin like acid - but he’s not there, pain lingering in his skin like a phantom touch, and lungs so tightly wound that he’s certain the oppressive liquid is still drowning them in burns - 

_But he’s not there_ , the ground is harsh and cold beneath his back, cool dirt muddled into a thick, lukewarm consistency that smears against the thin shirt he’s wearing, _instead of an icy metal table strapping him into place_.

There is liquid leaking from him, mixing into the dirt around his lower abdomen and his thighs, warmer than the chill bleeding into the air -

He was bleeding, Cloud realized distantly and numb, staring up at faint stars that speckled across a dark, clear sky. The world was spinning, a blurring mess that Cloud couldn’t quite focus on as his vision shifted from a stark and detailed clearness to buzzing flashes of darkness intertwined with haunting screeches of soft white noise. 

It felt like someone had taken a rock to the back of his skull and tried to cave it in - maybe they had - and they had yet to stop trying, the skull shuddering pounding growing louder and longer with each passing second.

His body was too cold and too hot at the same time, made that way by a coat of thick icy sweat he couldn't stop from forming across his skin - that made him shiver and suck in shuddering breaths when the wind acted up- lukewarm blood that pooled against his stomach, and a sharpening hot blister growing from inside his small intestines.

Like a ball of branding hot needles was vibrating in place - short, sharp, _precise_.

There was a wound in his abdomen, right across his belly button and leading down to his left hip bone, but, besides some soft stinging, like someone had thrown a handful of sharp pebbles at him, Cloud couldn’t fathom what created it.

There was no shock, no _panic_ , just a sense of wrongness that made his small breaths pulse wildly like a racing heart while his own heart remained calm.

His aching head was far more painful than the deeply bleeding wound spilling red down his thighs - that, and the sharp, jagged, rock digging into his back as he laid awkwardly over it.

Sleep was tugging at his eyes, but it didn’t feel right, too heavy, too forceful, leaking his consciousness out of his ears with every blink-

Oh. 

He was _dying_. _That’s_ what was happening.

An odd sort of calm washed over him, and a sharp, jagged sliver of ice wormed it way beneath his lungs and his sternum, writhing around like a pig in mud. He should be panicking, but he… He just _couldn’t_. 

His breathing, his heart, and his mind stayed still, like he was simple falling asleep, but he knew he wouldn’t wake up from this. Not this time.

The sky was disappointing, the stars strangled by light pollution and the moon tucked away from sight, nothing beautiful to stare at while he died slowly- the trees surrounding him cast darkening shadows over the muddy ground, but one moved, just a _twitch_ , and Cloud found himself aware enough to glance at it.

It was a man, maybe... He didn’t seem... _Right_.

Too bright, too _detailed_ , against the darkness of the forest, like a haunting vision of perfection lingering long after his mortal body had perished - like a ghost, ethereal and glowing as soft as the light from a crescent moon descending into the west.

His skin was pure and pale like snow, unmarred and shimmering in non-existent light that caught him at all the right angles - Too precise. Too _perfect_. Like his body had been _created_ to be beautiful, created to be seen through choking black that lurked at the edge of a billowing forest which reached with thin, need-like, branching claws towards Cloud.

His face was stark against the forest, barely hidden by the high collar of his red cloak, and accentuated by his long dark hair - as black as pitch, and glinting like obsidian jewelry in the radius of unnatural light he seemed to emit.

The man looked dangerous, like a black mamba poised to strike from underneath a thicket, but his facial features were enchanting, so perfectly symmetrical and strangely delicate, like a rose with poisoned thorns, that Cloud couldn’t find a single fault with them - wouldn’t _dare_ to find a single fault with them.

He was wearing a bandana, as bright and bloody as his cloak, but it didn't seem out of place, fitting against the mans face like he had been born with it, but it brightened his eyes-

And they were _enthralling_.

As scarlet as rubies glowing ember hot, surrounded by pearly iridescent skin, and framed with thick hematite lashes that curled gently. They enticed Cloud’s mind into numbness, their unearthly aura overpowering any coherent thought trying to form in his mind - he found himself unable to copy them to memory, but unable to even _look away_ , the otherness of its luster like an optical illusion that Cloud couldn’t pin.

They peered and prodded at Cloud, despite not moving from his face, as if they could see - could _understand_ something that Cloud could not.

Finally, they moved, trailing down his throat and his chest until Cloud’s blood boiled under the gaze, like the man's eyes were intoxicating him from merely a glance, and Cloud watched with a sudden _want_ how the man’s pupils dilated in greedy delight, the rubies in place of his irises shifting into pyrope red along with them.

Sharp, sickeningly hungry, the eyes locked onto Cloud’s wound and his heart _ached_ , ready and willing, wanting and grieving something he didn't understand but wished to follow all the same - his nerves shivering with an indescribable hunger that settled along his bones with a cruel pleasure like a wolf following a wounded doe and waiting for it to die.

“How peculiar.” The man said, voice wispily deep, gravely and smooth like serrated dark chocolate that burned molten hot as it rang through Cloud’s ears until Cloud’s mind fizzed and faded in and out, and his nerves thrummed to be _touched_.

“You’re dying.” The man stated, and Cloud’s mind went startling blank at the tone, reserved amusement and wry acceptance, until pressure built along his thighs and lower stomach ready to burst. His heart was singing, shrill and greedy, and he prayed that the man spoke again, that he got _closer_.

“Do you wish to live?” He asked softly and Cloud tried to breathe, his lungs suddenly compressed and tightly bound in desperate anticipation, even as his mind went electric, sharp currents buzzing through his skull in quickening spasms.

His muscles seized and loosened, going sharp and stiff with every careful step the man made closer and breaking back, like snapped rubber bands, when the man stopped. He was still amused, smiling coyly at Cloud’s reactions and Cloud wanted to cry, to beg for some sort of release.

His mind shuddered and gasped as sudden thoughts formed, sharp against his skull like a dagger digging into the bone.

Was he voluntarily acting this way? Was his body acting so bothered, so undone, naturally? 

Did this stranger _really_ have such a bewitching effect on Cloud’s muscles and mind, breaking him down into writhing blankness that begged for some sort of desperate simulation, or was it some trick, some _thing_ that man could alter, could sway, over begging flesh soon to die?

“Do you wish to live?” The man repeated and Cloud nearly screamed, frustrated at himself and his own stillness. And at his eagerness, the way the warmth coursing through his thoughts called out to the man.

He wanted- _needed_ the man to touch him, to be near him, needed it like air stabbing into his lungs, and the man nearly complied, leaning down so close to Cloud’s face that his dark hair feathered against Cloud’s skin as soft as spider’s silk.

His eyes were even more breathtaking up close - beautiful and demented like a butterfly pinned down in a glass case still alive, struggling to escape but beautifully displayed - and Cloud finally breathed a full breath, calm and still. The man smiled, softly, causing the nerves in Cloud’s legs to spasm so violently his mind went hazy and his stomach twisted and fell harshly like it hung itself.

The man reached down, the very bare of his knuckles grazing Cloud’s cheek and the tension pulsing through his body dispersed with a shuddering, tear-filled, gasp. Far more amused than he had any right to be, the man leaned down even closer, his face inches from Cloud’s own, and Cloud wanted to _squirm_ , to twist and creep closer to the body of the man.

Was he crying? Cloud’s face felt achingly hot, like it was too close to flames and ready to melt off bones, but something cold trailed down his cheeks, stinging against the warmth.

“Such an easy prey,” He started, sending aching shivers down Cloud’s skin with pins that left him hot and burning, “How quick it would be to kill you - to end your misery. Would you like that?” The man murmured, voice barely above the wind but echoing in Cloud’s ear like a banshee’s scream.

“Beautiful.” Cloud finally managed to croak out, voice cracking and mouth dry as he stared eagerly at the man’s throat, _a predator waiting for prey to bear it_ \- begging silently for something primal, something buried deep in his instincts, something greedy and _hungry_ and _wanting_ _so desperately for the man to **submit**_.

The man paused, startled, and the buzzing in Cloud’s mind, the aching and heated twitching of his muscles, _the strained pressure on his nerves_ , faded. Fizzling away into nothing, like his nerves and muscles had been taut strings finally cut slack.

“Am I beautiful to you?” The man asked, voice strangled and edged sharply, and Cloud sucked in a shuddering breath as the world spun and blurred around him - pleasure dissipating so suddenly that his bones trembled and popped in relief at its release.

“Like a gutted rabbit before a wolf.” Cloud whispered, something pleased settling along his skin at the decrepit delight that crept over the man’s beautiful face, and he found himself suddenly eagerly aware of the world around him - the sharpness of the dark creeping in around his vision.

“Do you want to live?” The man asked for the final time, of this Cloud was sure, and he sounded desperate and greedy in Cloud’s mind, the low baritone of intrigue coloring shades into his voice.

“I don’t know. Maybe.” Cloud managed to croak, the world finally blurring into a deep darkness - until all that was left was glowing red eyes and a fang-filled smile, soft and sly.

“How peculiar.” The man chuckled, voice strong and interested but soft as a whisper in Cloud’s ears, and Cloud marveled at the stillness creeping towards his own heart - until his nerves hummed and sung at the intense pressure building along his throat while the world became achingly quiet and bitter iron, simmered in sweetness, sunk beneath his teeth and into his mouth.

“Do stay with me now, little _wolf_ , we have much to do.” The man murmured, a strangled purr rumbling deep in his throat, and Cloud’s mind hummed back to life with a buzzing screech as the sugared iron crawled down his throat, burning brightly as it seeped into his lungs and bones.

It was blinding his nerves with sudden, piercing intensity, and Cloud felt pressure reform along his inner thighs, along the pit of his abdomen, as something warm and coated in sweetness prodded into his mouth.

His mind was blanking again, as his nerves twitched and screamed under his skin, and the burning sweetened iron seeped into his blood with a wholeness that left his muscles numb, buzzing with pins and needles and an aching greedy neediness.

Pleasure - or was it pain? - surged again, pulsing against each of his nerves, like his heartbeat made the muscles flex involuntarily despite his lack of control over them and heat pooled even more intensely along his thighs, creeping slowly up along his spine, until his toes curled and his legs twitched - _trembled_ with burning and shivering, tightly wound, muscles.

Something was going down his throat - besides the warm, salty, sweet, and _metallic liquid_ \- and, eagerly, Cloud let the moving object explore his gasping mouth, his burning throat. It was soft but tough, warm and wet and _reaching_ down his throat, mapping out everything in its path, and Cloud had no intent to stop it.

His skin was suddenly tender, chiller than the wind fluttering across his body, and the man placed his, _scorching hot_ , hand over one of his bare thighs and _gripped_ \- sharpened nails digging into his overly sensitive muscles until they made violent shudders, cold and warm, skitter down his neck and settle smugly along his nerves with a breathless gasp.

Cloud’s heart was beating uncontrollably, pounding intensely at a furious rhythm until he was sure it was no longer beating at all, causing the man to spill a chuckle into Cloud’s mouth, low and satisfied, and Cloud found himself eagerly swallowing the sound.

His muscles were twitching, delicate and stiff under the man’s firm grip, but an aching stillness crept into his lungs, curling around his spine and seeping into his veins - intoxicatingly surreal and cruel, like a fascination with death taken too far.

The buzzing in his mind shifted, rising sharply like the sea before a storm, and slowly made its way down through his torso and legs - it felt different than pins and needles, like the sound of a bee was a sensation growing steady under twitching nerves.

Muscles seized, ached and stressed, teased to the point that Cloud finds a strangled cry of delighted horror torn from his throat as sharp pulsing pain spreads through his now harshly flexing flesh. His body is aching in an unfamiliar way, a stranger to the brain parading it around like its own suit made of calcium and freezing flesh, frozen in stiffness that _burns_.

“Death is not cruel, nor is it kind - tell me, Little Wolf, how do you fair under its tender embrace?” The man - _Vincent_ , something greedy and hungry and _begging_ , whispers - murmurs lowly, voice breathless and warm against his neck and Cloud can’t stop the desperate, _gluttonous_ , noise that escapes him when he finds the writhing and warm appendage from before is no longer in his mouth.

“Under its sweet kiss.” Vincent croons quietly, voice melodious and deep as he shifts around him, the sliding of an arm under Cloud’s legs making him flinch and gasp. He pulls Cloud into his arms, face buried into his neck and Cloud can hear his heart _beat_ , smell sweet iron thrumming under the skin of his throat.

He wants more, eager and wanting, suddenly so hungry that greedy pain blooms from deep in his abdomen, and Vincent _chuckles_ , the sound ringing in Cloud’s ears as the blood in Vincent’s throat shifts and Cloud’s teeth _ache_.

There’s something wanting under his skin, crawling with pin-pointed insects along nerves and thoughts, but it mutes, strangely, when Vincent finally stands - his presence overwhelming and constant, an endless abyss of warmth and darkness that settles against his being like a black sun and he can’t help but try and pull away when his mind abruptly becomes crowded, filled with an otherworldly sharpness that muffles his own thoughts and the buzzing that had steadily been growing under his skin.

“How quick you take to it.” Vincent murmurs, pleased, but at what is lost to Cloud, even as his body twitches and shivers in delight at the tone, at the way Vincent’s heated breath trails down the side of his neck and he hides a smile into the skin under Cloud’s ear. 

His body is still aching, numbing down until all that he’s left shivering at is the cold seeping suddenly into his veins, and sleep unexpectedly makes its violent comeback, attacking his eyelids with a vehement heaviness.

“Sleep now.” Vincent _commands_ , pointed and strong, and Cloud feels his body relax immediately, giving in to Vincent’s words with ease and wresting control from his consciousness. As his body freezes, Vincent’s hands burning brand marks onto Cloud, he becomes grimly aware of how tight, suffocating, his own clothing is.

And Vincent’s low chuckling follows him into sudden sleep, his mind finally leaking out into the void that steals away at the breath in Cloud’s lungs.

  
  
  


It’s sudden, alertness that is, the shift between sleep and awake is a mere breath and Cloud lets his nerves settle along his skin - he doesn’t know where he is, but it’s warm and soft yet something sharp, _harsh_ , is crawling along the back of his neck like he’s being watched.

Peering one eye open, he finds the roof of a large canopy bed looming over him - it’s padded with dark crimson fabric, a few shades darker than the embroidered curtains around the bed and much darker than the blood-red sheets Cloud finds covering him, and the bedposts supporting it are striking silver.

The curtains are tied loosely to them, by thick black rope, but they still hang over the sides of the bed, blocking out the bright moonlight leaking into the room. He can’t help but finally sit up, curious, pulling the covers to his chest and around his shoulders for some sense of security.

The bed’s headboard is large and fancy, embroidered like the curtains and made with the same silver the head posts are, but there are symbols and designs carved into them. There are nightstands on both sides of the bed, same silver shade as the bedposts, and the walls of the room match the red padding of the bed - Cloud almost feels suffocated by the darkness of the room, only saved from it by a lit fireplace on the other side of the room.

Something is clawing against his mind, as if someone was sharing the bed with him and _watching_ , but he’s alone, muscles shaking from how tense they suddenly go.

The room is _beautiful_ , filled with elegant and overly dramatic pieces of furniture, but Cloud suddenly feels out of place, everything so striking while he sits in a bed that isn’t his wearing a bloody t-shirt and ratty jeans.

He glances around the room, hoping that something is somewhat familiar enough that he could relax - or that something revealed what day it was, or _where_ he was - when his mind suddenly shorted.

_There was a coffin._

There was a coffin, open and well furnished, lying just under the only window in the room, and _someone was in it._

The door to the room, next to the fireplace, creaked open slowly and the man in the coffin, beguiling in a terrifying unnatural way, sat up sharply; his black hair falling into his face like water would an empty space, and he turned startling red eyes onto Cloud with a coy smile.

“Ah, my little wolf, you’re awake. Do you wish for a welcome to the world of the living? Or the unliving for us, rather.” The man in the coffin states, Cloud’s mind trying desperately to restart and remember his name, but it keeps getting caught on the fact that he had been sleeping in an actual _coffin_ \- as strangely elegant as the rest of the room, sleek maroon that nearly looks black if not for the deep red shine in the moonlight.

“Vincent,” A new man said, voice and eyes sharp as he watched the man in the coffin with a critical glare - he was a severe looking man, long black hair slicked back, revealing a small black dot just above the middle of his eyebrows, and judging bright brown eyes, “You’ve caused enough problems as it is.”

“My, my, _Tseng_ , I was merely speaking with my fledgling.” Vincent states, aiming a sharp, beautiful, smile at the other man.

Tseng sighs, sounding tired though Cloud can hear his heart _pounding_ from across the room, can hear the way his blood rushes under his skin and in his veins, “Young Sir, your father expressed his concern when you went missing, as did your mothers and step-sister, but we still have no clarification for what happened - would you be willing to recount the events that have happened since you went missing two weeks ago?”

And Cloud blinks, confused, throat feeling painfully dry, “My… What?” He tries to place the words in his mind, but nothing comes up, no memories or faces even though he knows that it should, “Who... Who even are you?” He ends up finishing with, hoping, though he knows it isn’t, that it’s the right response.

Tseng straightens, face going blank, and Vincent turns to Cloud with curious eyes, “How peculiar.”


End file.
